Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, 2018a

BECOMING AMERICA
REVOLUTIONARY AND EARLY NATIONAL PERIOD LITERATURE
Captain Thomas Auld. I received this information about three days before my
departure. They were three of the happiest days I ever enjoyed. I spent the most
part of all these three days in the creek, washing o the plantation scurf, and
preparing myself for my departure.
The pride of appearance which this would indicate was not my own. I spent
the time in washing, not so much because I wished to, but because Mrs. Lucretia
had told me I must get all the dead skin o my feet and knees before I could go to
Baltimore; for the people in Baltimore were very cleanly, and would laugh at me if
I looked dirty. Besides, she was going to give me a pair of trousers, which I should
not put on unless I got all the dirt o me. The thought of owning a pair of trousers
was great indeed! It was almost a sucient motive, not only to make me take o
what would be called by pig-drovers the mange, but the skin itself. I went at it in
good earnest, working for the rst time with the hope of reward.
The ties that ordinarily bind children to their homes were all suspended in
my case. I found no severe trial in my departure. My home was charmless; it was
not home to me; on parting from it, I could not feel that I was leaving any thing
which I could have enjoyed by staying. My mother was dead, my grandmother
lived far o, so that I seldom saw her. I had two sisters and one brother, that lived
in the same house with me; but the early separation of us from our mother had
well nigh blotted the fact of our relationship from our memories. I looked for home
elsewhere, and was condent of nding none which I should relish less than the
one which I was leaving. If, however, I found in my new home hardship, hunger,
whipping, and nakedness, I had the consolation that I should not have escaped any
one of them by staying. Having already had more than a taste of them in the house
of my old master, and having endured them there, I very naturally inferred my
ability to endure them elsewhere, and especially at Baltimore; for I had something
of the feeling about Baltimore that is expressed in the proverb, that “being hanged
in England is preferable to dying a natural death in Ireland.” I had the strongest
desire to see Baltimore. Cousin Tom, though not uent in speech, had inspired me
with that desire by his eloquent description of the place. I could never point out
any thing at the Great House, no matter how beautiful or powerful, but that he
had seen something at Baltimore far exceeding, both in beauty and strength, the
object which I pointed out to him. Even the Great House itself, with all its pictures,
was far inferior to many buildings in Baltimore. So strong was my desire, that I
thought a gratication of it would fully compensate for whatever loss of comforts I
should sustain by the exchange. I left without a regret, and with the highest hopes
of future happiness.
We sailed out of Miles River for Baltimore on a Saturday morning. I remember
only the day of the week, for at that time I had no knowledge of the days of the month,
nor the months of the year. On setting sail, I walked aft, and gave to Colonel Lloyd’s
plantation what I hoped would be the last look. I then placed myself in the bows of
the sloop, and there spent the remainder of the day in looking ahead, interesting
myself in what was in the distance rather than in things near by or behind.
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